


Intoxication

by Superwholock22



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Bloodplay, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Pre-Slash, possible sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 23:24:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Superwholock22/pseuds/Superwholock22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My take on what happens when Will finds out about Hannibal. So far just a oneshot, might continue if it gets reviews and stuff :) No warnings really, just some blood?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intoxication

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Hannigram fic so be gentle :) Reviews are greatly appreciated. Let me know if I should continue this story! Also, you can follow my tumblr if you would like :) http://superwholock22.tumblr.com/

Will had known for a while now. Perhaps it was fear that had driven him into silence over the matter, but deep down he knew it was something else entirely. Drawing a shaky breath, he splashed cold water over his face and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He was pale and his eyes slightly red from lack of sleep. Winston licked his hand and whined softly, snapping him out of his reverie. It was a half hour before his scheduled appointment with Dr. Lecter. Another session to sit through with the knowledge that the man before him was the very man which he had hunted with the FBI for so long. He told himself he was being a coward. Any sane person would have told Jack Crawford by now. But he wasn’t sane. He knew it, Jack Crawford knew it, and Dr. Lecter knew it.  But that wasn’t the thought that scared him. It was the thought of losing Hannibal. Fucked up as it might be, he couldn’t bring himself to turn him over to the FBI. If anyone was going to kill Hannibal, it was going to be Will. Giving Winston one last pat on the head, he grabbed his car keys and slammed the door behind him.

 

Hannibal smiled at him through the crack of the door and beckoned him inside.

“Will, it looks as if you haven’t been sleeping. What troubles you?”

They sat down in their respective chairs facing each other. Will gripped the chair and spoke.

“Bad dreams. You know, the usual.” He tried laughing but it came out as more of a nervous whimper. He cleared his throat and spoke again, careful not to gaze into Dr. Lecter’s piercing eyes.

“For the first time there has been something that I can’t handle. I’m slipping.” Will ran a hand over his face and shut his eyes. He could feel Hannibal watching him. He thought of the knife he had brought with him. He could feel the coldness of the blade in his coat pocket and shivered. He knew he had come here for one reason only. Killing Hobbs had felt good. But killing Hannibal… the thought made his insides churn with nervous revulsion. Again his traitorous heart reminded him that it was not fear he felt for Hannibal, it was something else entirely. To cheapen such a feeling with a word such as “Love” would be wrong. And yet he knew the reason he had withheld his knowledge from Jack Crawford for so long. The heat in Hannibal’s gaze when he thought Will wasn’t looking. It was contact that Will longed for. The real reason behind his inability to sleep. He knew what Hannibal was but instead of feeling disgusted he felt a heady mixture of lust and confusion. But in the end the only solution was to kill Hannibal himself. Jack and the FBI would figure out he was the Ripper eventually and Will could not subject Hannibal to that kind of torture. To be locked up like an animal.

            He had been silent for a while now. He looked up at Hannibal and saw him take a sip of his wine, placing the glass carefully back down on the side table before speaking again.

“Your silence betrays you Will. You know, don’t you.” He gazed almost nonchalantly at Will, his eyes hard with an almost predatory glint to them. It was like the room had held its breath, waiting for the impending doom to set in on the people in it. They both stood up suddenly, the glass of wine clattering to the floor; A pool of red liquid spreading slowly across the impeccable white carpet. It was hard to tell who moved first. Will felt all of his rage and betrayal rise to the surface inside him and punched Hannibal with surprising force. He watched Hannibal’s face as he staggered back from the unexpected impact. There was already a dark bruise forming under Hannibal’s left eye. Will spoke with venom in his every word, and punched him again, emphasizing every word with another punch.

“You.” Punch.

“Betrayed.” Punch.

“Me.” Punch.

Hannibal could hear the hurt and distress in every utterance. There were tears swimming in Will’s eyes even as he spat his angry words. Hannibal had had enough. Steeling himself, he slammed Will’s body against the wall and punched him in return, causing a trickle of blood to seep from the newly formed cut on Will’s lip. He held Will there, pinning his arms against the door like a prisoner.

            Hannibal had known this day would eventually come. It was only natural that Will would be the one to find him out. But Will was altogether too broken to really do him any harm. Hannibal had quite enjoyed Will’s descent into quiet submission. He knew he had an effect on Will, and even now he saw Will’s eyes dilate at their closeness against the door. He almost smiled at the thought of it. He felt Will’s breathing quicken and his arms slipped from Hannibal’s grasp, pushing him back with his hands flat against Hannibal’s chest.  Will reached into his coat and pulled out the knife. For the first time, Will brought himself to lock eyes with Hannibal. They were a soft brown.  Unfathomable and mysterious as they always were. The one person Will could not read. He raised the knife shakily in his right hand. He had expected Hannibal to make another movement towards him, maybe punch him again but he just stood there. Bruised and bloody as they both were, awaiting the next move in Will’s very own design. With one last look into Hannibal’s eyes, Will felt the fight leave his tired body. The knife fell to the floor with a resounding clang. Will sunk to the floor in front of Hannibal and spoke with quiet determination.

“I think you knew I would never be able to fight you. All those times we sat together and you knew all along. You knew I was weak.” His voice trembled with broken defeat. Hannibal lowered himself to the floor facing Will and smiled carefully. Raising his right hand to cup the side of Will’s face he said,

“Not weak my good Will, you just can’t control how you feel and it makes you reckless with want.”

Will whimpered softly and his eyes fluttered shut. Will’s eyes snapped back open as he felt the pad of Hannibal’s thumb brush across his bloody bottom lip. Will couldn’t breathe from the intoxication of it all. He watched, powerless; as Hannibal lifted his thumb to his mouth, pink tongue darting out to savor the metallic flavor of Will’s blood. Smiling again, almost cruelly, Hannibal cradled both sides of Will’s face and kissed him; slow, hot, and heady with blood. Hannibal pulled back, kissing the tender spot beneath Will’s ear and whispered,

“You couldn’t bring yourself to leave me if you tried, my sweet Will. You will always end up here.”

Getting to his feet, he smiled at Will and walked into the next room. And Will, feeling hopelessly vulnerable and having lost all defenses, followed him. The knife lay forgotten on the floor.

 

 


End file.
